Veiled Threats
by voldemort wants hugs
Summary: If you were sent back in time and could change your life for the better, would you? That's the question Sirius Black is forced to ask himself when he wakes up eighteen years in the past. However, the question he hasn't really considered is 'Is it really for the better'
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

"Come on, you can do better than that!" Sirius was fighting his cousin Bellatrix in the department of mysteries, dodging her spells with ease. She was so angry, so desperate for some kind of revenge for breaking the prophecy that she could barely aim straight. The more he taunted her the angrier she got. He began to laugh at her. Dumbledore was walking towards him with his wand raised and a rather panicked look about him. He was speeding towards them, and Sirius was confused as to what was panicking Dumbledore so much, of all people. He turned back to Bellatrix. The last thing Sirius saw before he fell was Bellatrix's angry, crazed face yell out a spell, and a red light travel towards him. Then everything went black.

When Sirius opened his eyes, he found himself lying in the middle of a street, with streetlights glaring down at him. He sat in and frowned; he recognised this place. Tentatively, he walked up to one of the houses and glanced down at the newspaper in the bin. His heart nearly stopped. The date on the paper was the 18th of July 1978. Lily and James were still alive, Harry wasn't born yet, he wasn't in Azkaban, Pettigrew hadn't-

Pettigrew. If he really had gone back in time, he could stop Pettigrew before he started. Everything would be the way it should have been. Sirius looked around at the houses, and with a jolt, realised he was standing on Peter Pettigrew's driveway. Could he kill Peter now? The Peter of this time was only eighteen. He hadn't joined the death eaters yet, in fact he was a loyal member of the order. Could he kill a member of the order? But then he remembered. He remembered finding James and Lily's bodies in their house, seeing Harry traumatised after the Triwizard Tournament and he realised that he could kill Peter Pettigrew.

Sirius Black was a master of sneaking into places. It was something he'd always been good at, as a prankster in his teenage years, but something he'd gotten considerably better at after breaking out of prison. He snuck through Peter's open window with ease, and was disappointed to find him sleeping. He'd wanted to see the light leave Peter's eyes as he killed him. Did that make him sadistic? It probably made him sadistic. He decided against waking Peter up, as he knew it could only make matters more complicated if Peter screamed out. So, with shaking hands,he pointed his wand at the sleeping form of his traitorous ex best friend and said the two words he had sworn to himself he would never say:

 _"Avada Kedavra."_


	2. The Life and Times of Peter Pettigrew

The Life and Times of Peter Pettigrew

 _Eighteen years later..._

Harry Potter woke up and saw red. Red walls, covered in posters of his favourite Quidditch team, Puddlemere United. His old keeper, Oliver Wood, waved at him from the poster. Groggily, Harry pulled in some clothes and then looked in the mirror. His hair was as messy as ever, and he shrugged at himself, knowing there was nothing he could do about it, and went downstairs.

As he walked downstairs he could hear his parents talking in hushed tones. Harry frowned, trying to work out why, when he realised. Today was the eighteenth of July. God, he hated today. Every year, since it happened, his parents and their friends would get together, usually in a place like a church, and have what they called a celebration, and what Harry called an extra funeral, for Peter Pettigrew. And, as soon as Harry was old enough to ask questions, he would go with them.

It wasn't that Harry didn't like the annual get togethers. In fact, he quite enjoyed seeing some of the people who attended, such as his parents friend and his ex professor, Remus, but Harry felt that he had no place there. He'd never met Peter Pettigrew, the man had been killed two years before he was born. The name meant nothing to him. The only sadness Harry felt was for his parents, who became quiet and withdrawn in the days before and after Peter's death anniversary. If Harry had a choice, he would stay at home while his parents went to the church, but he felt like they wanted him there, so he didn't say anything.

"Harry?" Asked his mum, and with a jolt Harry realised he was sitting at the table. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry said. "Just tired." Then he frowned and looked at his mum. Her eyes were red rimmed and puffy. "Are _you_ alright?"

"What?" She said, caught off guard. "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Eat your pancakes dear." Harry could tell his mum was upset, she only ever called him dear when something was wrong. But he didn't push it and started eating his pancakes.

"So." Said his Dad. Harry looked up, knowing what to expect. "It's the day." He sounded like he'd tried to make his voice sound jolly, but it wavered slightly, as if he was trying not to cry.

"When are we leaving?" Asked Harry, trying his best to keep everything normal.

"In about an hour." Said his mum. "You might want to change into something a bit smarter." Harry looked down at his clothes and realised he was wearing an old, scruffy pair of jeans and a top about five sizes to big for him that his aunt and uncle had sent him for Christmas. Harry had strongly suspected it used to belong to his cousin, Dudley.

"Yeah, sure," Harry said, almost running to his room. When he got there, he shut his eyes. His parents were always so *weird* this time of year. He hated it. Peter Pettigrew was one of his dad's greatest friends, and when he died he was barely eighteen. Harry knew it wasn't Peter's fault for being murdered by a death eater, but he couldn't help feeling slightly resentful towards the man. Sighing, Harry put on some smarter clothes and went back downstairs.

"So, Ron reckons I might get made captain for the Quidditch team this year." Said Harry as the family walked down to Godric's Hollow church an hour later.

"That would be wonderful!" Said his mum, sounding a lot happier about the idea when he first mentioned it to her a few weeks ago. "Wouldn't it James?"

"Hmm?" Said James, looking up from the ground. "Yeah, great." Harry's shoulders slumped in disappointment.

"I'm going to get my OWL results back soon." Harry tried again. "I'm pretty sure I passed defence, but I don't know about Divination or History of-"

" _Okay_ , dear." Said his mum sharply. Harry turned to look at her, and she subtly gestured towards his dad. Harry could see his Dad was downcast, looking at the floor with a hopeless look in his eye. Harry gave up with the conversation.

When they arrived at the Church, the first person they saw was the Potter's friend Remus, who was looking nearly as depressed as Harry's dad. "Hey Remus!" Harry said, running up to the frail man. "Hello Harry," Said Remus warmly, giving Harry a quick hug before greeting Harry's parents. The four of them sat in a pew in silence.

Harry looked around the church, watching people come through the doors. The next person to arrive was Harry's potions teacher, Professor Snape (his dad stood up at this, but his mum pulled him back down, whispering something to him that calmed him down) and the Longbottoms. Harry saw his friend Neville in the group and grinned at him, and Neville waved back. Eventually, everyone had arrived and the service began.

The first person to speak was Peter Pettigrew's mother, Eloise. Every year she would say the same thing, that her son was very brave, a fighter, a good person and a sweet child. It was only touching the first five times. In fact, most people's speeches were the same, so Harry would drift in and out of what was being said until his dad went up. His Dad always gave good speeches, whether it was a birthday, a wedding or the anniversary of his best friend's death.

When it was Harry's dad's turn to speak it was nearly the end of the church service. After the church service, most of the people there would go back to the Potter's house, but eventually the only people still there would be James and Remus, slightly drunk and reminiscing about 'the good ole days.' But for now his dad was entirely sober, and standing in front of everyone.

"Peter Pettigrew was one of my closest friends." James began. "We met on the train to Hogwarts nearly twenty five years ago, and I had the honour of knowing him for seven school years. We were incredibly close at school. He was everything a Gryffindor should be; brave, kind, daring and very, very loyal. I consider myself very lucky to have been his friend, and I'm sure he's watching all of us from above. But we can promise to ourselves that we will never forget the wonderful man Peter Pettigrew was, because if he can live on in our hearts and memories then that's what's important." James stepped forward slightly, and half said half shouted: "To Peter Pettigrew!"


	3. And his name was Sirius

_Only one pair were still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Harry saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her. "Come on, you can do better than that!" He yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. The second jet of light hit him squarely in the chest. The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock. Harry released Neville, though he was unaware of doing so. He was jumping down steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore, too, turned towards the dais._

 _It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. Harry saw the look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the doorway and disappeared behind the veil, which fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind, then fell back into place._

Harry awoke, panting and sweating, as though he really had just been in the middle of a great battle. He furrowed his brow, confused. The man in his dream, Sirius, had seemed familiar but unfamiliar, as though he'd known him a long time ago. While Harry had recognised Neville, a friend of his from Hufflepuff, Bellatrix, one of you-know-who's most feared allies, and obviously Dumbledore, he had no idea who Sirius was. He closed his eyes, seeing Sirius' last moments flash against his eyelids.

Although he didn't know who Sirius was, Harry felt strangely sad. Usually, Harry knew dreams weren't real, but this dream felt so... authentic that he just wasn't sure. Obviously, he knew he'd never fought for his life in that room, but maybe, he mused, maybe the man in his dream had some connection to him. After turning to the clock on his bedside and realising it was only three in the morning, Harry decided to go back to sleep, and ask his parents if they knew a Sirius at breakfast in a few hours.

"So," Said Harry to the breakfast table later that day. Three pairs of eyes turned to him. The hazel, slightly bloodshot eyes of his father's, the sparkling green of his mother's, and the amber eyes with heavy bags underneath that belonged to Remus, who had ended up staying the night. "I had a really weird dream last night." He began. His dad returned to his cereal, still lost in thought about his old friend. Remus, however, nodded at him and politely gestured for him to go on. "Well, I was in this massive room, and there were people fighting, and Neville was there, and then one of the people fighting fell through this curtain thing and died, and I was trying to stop him falling and then he fell and I woke up."

"That is a strange dream," remarked Remus. "Who was the man in your dream?"

"I dunno." Said Harry. "I didn't recognise him, but I think his name was Sirius-" Harry was then interrupted by the sound of metal against against floorboards. He looked up to see his dad, his mum and Remus staring at him with mingled looks of horror, shock and anger.

"What did you say?" James hissed, holding his glass so tightly his knuckles went white.

"His name was Sirius?" Said Harry, confused. And with that, James was off.

"How dare you?!" He shouted, causing Harry to flinch. "How dare you say that name! Do you have any idea who that man is, what he's done, I swear to God Harry James-"

"James!" Showed Lily. She grabbed James' hand in an attempt to calm him down. "Please calm down. It's okay. It's okay. Harry, go to your room. The three of us need to talk." Harry couldn't get out of there fast enough.

*Downstairs*

Lily was rubbing calming circles on James' back while he held his head in his hands, and Remus was sitting staring at a wall, looking as if he was recovering some particularly horrible memories. Eventually, James looked up. "Who told him about Black?" He said, his voice wavering slightly.

"Maybe he read about it somewhere?" Suggested Lily. "You've got all the newspaper clippings in your office still James, maybe he went in there and read one of them, and now he wants to know more?"

"Harry's not allowed in my office though." Said James indignantly. Lily chuckled to herself slightly.

"And since when have rules ever stopped him?" She said.

"Lily, I don't think you're right." Said Remus. "If Harry knew what Black had done, he wouldn't have bought it up over breakfast. He probably would have spoken to one of us in private."

"He probably just heard one of us say the name at some point." Said James, and the other two nodded and began to feel slightly calmer, completely oblivious to the boy standing outside the kitchen door.

So, Harry thought to himself, there was information on this Sirius Black in his dad's forbidden study? Well, his dad had always forbidden entry into that study on pain of death, but surely he wouldn't notice Harry going into his study while he slept?

And like the old saying goes: what he doesn't know won't hurt him.


End file.
